Friday, January 25, 2013

The Hindu/ Footloose/ Pride and Prejudice

When you ask dancers why they
dance, they give several reasons. Some say that it’s because they are happiest
when they are dancing, others say that it provides them with physical and
emotional ‘release’ – an outlet for creative self expression. Still others say
that it enables them to say things that words cannot express. Many also say that
the mental and physical space in which one dances is a safe space – an
expressive and free space. Free in the sense that it is free of ego, free of
judgment and of the fear of vulnerability – essentially, a space that leaves
pride and prejudice behind.

At a recent ‘Reading Group’
meeting, where a bunch of us gather to discuss issues related to art and
education, the discussion led me to think about the issue of pride and
prejudice in Indian (and in some instances, global) dance.

Pride is defined as a high or
inordinate opinion of one’s own dignity, importance, merit or superiority,
whether in the mind or as displayed in bearing or conduct. Undoubtedly, many
observers of dance, dance scholars and critics do believe that at least some
dancers are afflicted by this particular deadly sin. While a certain pride in
your own work is a virtue, when this pride results in arrogance, dismissal of
critique, and celebration of mediocrity – as it often does – then it certainly
does become putrid.

Prejudice, although craftily
disguised or carefully hidden, exists in the subliminal spaces of dance.
Prejudice is defined as an unfavourable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or
without knowledge, thought or reason. In India, and in many parts of the world,
prejudice against dance and dancers of a certain kind certainly do exist.

A societal prejudice like race
(or more particularly, skin colour) infiltrated into the world of dance as
well. While in India, there has not been as open a prejudice against darker
skin as in the west (the slave trade and subsequent racism against “blacks”);
dark skinned dancers have subliminally been victims of prejudice in India as
well. How many famous dancers of the previous generation do we know in India
who are not ‘fair’ skinned? How come the dusky dancers didn’t quite make it as
big as our fair leading ladies in dance?

Another prejudice would be
sexuality. Dance is, as I’ve mentioned before, historically been
misappropriated as a female form (see my Footloose article, ‘The Suppressed Male‘,
Oct. 18, 2012). Male dancers face subtle and sometimes open prejudice,
especially with regard to their sexual preferences. On the flipside, female
dancers, because their chosen profession involves a display of their bodies,
also become the subject of prejudice of another kind. Many conservative
families still consider a dancing daughter or daughter-in-law to be morally
dubious.

Further, young and slim dancers
are favoured, whilst older and plumper dancers face prejudice. A slightly
rotund dancer will have always been
told by someone or another to lose weight, regardless of how well he or she
manages his or her weight while dancing. And of course, youth has been a global
obsession for quite some time now. One of the members of our reading group made
a brutal but likely accurate statement that in many instances, “older dancers
are tolerated because they are pitied”.

Many other instances of prejudice
can be found within the mindsets of people who view dancers and dance in India,
and the world. Prejudices do enter
the outspokenly declared ‘free’ spaces of dance.
Whilst these
prejudices are allowed to fester in the world of dance, a false sense of pride
(at not being eligible for any of the above mentioned prejudices) feeds off
these prejudices as well. It is only when pride and prejudice are truly
left outside of this space, can dance really be the space that the soul seeks. A space full of creation,
expression, creative vulnerability, invention and experimentation – an
inclusive space, that allows all people – pale skinned and people of all
beautiful shades of brown; male and female and in between; fat, thin, big,
small, robust, and petite; young, middle aged and old – to flourish.

About Me

I am a dancer. I write about what I feel are pressing issues concerning dance in India, and what my hopes and concerns as a young dancer in India are. I also seek answers to questions that I feel need to be asked, and need to be answered. I write about things that trouble and move me as a dancer. The facts in my writing are corraborated by academic material published (where I have used other people's work, it is appropriately cited) and the rest are my personal opinion. If you would like to use any of my written material, please email me at aranyanibhargav@gmail.com. Thank you.